


"assassin guy"

by darlingtimes



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: !! spoilers for act 2 !!, Encounters with My Weird Assassin Senpai (i'm half-joking), Gen, M/M, mainly plot i guess?, school au, there is not very much if any romance but the intention of them together is there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingtimes/pseuds/darlingtimes
Summary: There’s this mysterious boy that Itaru’s seen around at school.
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Mikage Hisoka
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	1. infirmary

**Author's Note:**

> this was an accident... started because i want more hisoita! but i just kept going?? it was fun writing... i hope you enjoy!!
> 
> rated T just in case because there's one scene of light violence, cursing, and panic. when i say light violence, i do mean light, though!

Shutting the infirmary door behind him, Itaru sighed in relief, finally allowed to rest in a cool, air-conditioned room.

Oh no, he had to lie down in the infirmary, and right before his physical education class! The teacher had been worried and asked if he would be alright without the school nurse there to take care of him, but that was  _ exactly _ why he happened to be especially “sick” today.

A grin crept onto his face. Now he had an hour all to himself—himself and his brand new KniRoun V game, hidden and ready for loading on his handheld console. Gripping his bag strap in his hand, he glanced around the room and listened to make sure no one else was in.

Silence. Awesome.

After scrawling his name onto the sign-in sheet left out for students, Itaru headed towards the last bed in the infirmary—his favorite spot, thanks to its distance from the door and privacy curtains. He put his bag at the head of the bed, then kicked off his shoes, though he made sure to arrange them neatly at the end of the bed afterwards. He was about to hop on and get comfortable, when—huh?

Craning his neck a little higher, he confirmed what he saw out of the corner of his eye. Someone was sleeping on the floor next to the bed, curled up into a ball. A third-year colored tie peeked out from his chest.

Itaru groaned internally and put his shoes back on. Can’t roll around on the bed with another human right there. What was he even doing, sleeping on the floor? The bed sheets were pristine, so it didn’t even look like he fell off of them.

Oh, wait, this is an infirmary. Itaru should probably be worried about the guy’s condition.

He quietly walked over to the white-haired boy, grimacing at the thought of talking to him. If he could even talk to him?

“Excuse me. Are you okay?” No response. “Hellooo?” Nada.

Sighing, Itaru crouched down to the floor. Tentatively reaching out a hand to the boy’s shoulder, he called out once again, “Excuse me—ow?!”

In a second, Itaru’s outstretched arm was twisted and he was pulled face first onto the floor. Scrambling up again and fixing his glasses, Itaru saw the what,  _ maxed-out speed assassin-class boy? _ standing on the bed, looking down at him with piercing green eyes. Or he assumed eyes—for all he knew, under those bangs could be an empty socket filled with dark magic. Holy crap did he looked like the epitome of mystery and danger, especially after that trick he just pulled.

The boy untensed and lowered himself from the bed onto the ground as Itaru gaped, then murmured in a surprisingly soft voice, “Sorry, you surprised me.”

“Er, no, it’s fine.” Itaru stopped staring and shifted awkwardly. “Well, I was going to nap here, but since you were here first...?”

The guy shook his head and motioned for Itaru to take the bed, when the sound of the door sliding open rang out and he was crouched on the floor again. He looked up at Itaru and put a finger to his lips as someone else walked in, their identity obscured by the privacy curtain. Confused, and for no particular reason, Itaru followed suit.

Motioning Itaru closer, he whispered, “You can go nap. I’m just hiding from someone.”

Itaru nodded and followed his directions, taking off his shoes again and stiffly stretching out on the bed. What a weird guy… Hiding? Crouching down on the floor of the infirmary seemed a little underwhelming to be running from the law, so maybe someone dragging him back to class? He’d heard teachers complaining that third years treated school like it was optional, since they’d gone through most of the mandatory material already.

The other person in the room sounded like they were approaching, so Itaru got ready to shift into “nap” mode. Before he could, he curtain shifted and a tall, green-haired boy with glasses poked his head in.

Itaru was too late in shutting his eyes, and he cringed as their gazes met. The older boy smiled apologetically and mouthed “Sorry” before closing the curtain, footsteps turning away and the door sliding behind him as he left.

Well, that was quick. Itaru decided to risk another peek over at the assassin guy. Maybe that was who he was avoiding.

Assassin guy indeed. When Itaru turned over and looked at the ground, he was gone.

Itaru blinked at the empty space, already done with feeling surprise from the first round of adrenaline. Whatever, then, might as well get to what he came here for. He reached for his bag—time to head out to Britannia.




Hisoka snuck out from the curtained corner of the infirmary to the door, footsteps silent. Chikage wasn’t stupid, so he probably knew that Hisoka was there, but he couldn’t do anything with knowing it if he didn’t catch him. It was normal for students to skip classes and nap, anyway.

The bell had rung, and since Chikage was most certainly on time to class, Hisoka slipped out of the room. The weather was warm today, so a nap on the roof would be a nice change of pace from the infirmary. 

Hours like this were wonderful, when all he had to do was loosely stay in character, free from missions while he adjusted to the environment. “Loosely” was a perfectly fine approach; Chikage just happened to be stiff. So what if Hisoka wanted to be a student that skipped school to nap? He just transferred, he had plenty of time later to make friends and attend class.

Up on the roof, he sighed, taking in a lungful of fresh air. Thinking about it, maybe he played his character a little  _ too _ loosely, freaking out the kid in the infirmary with his reflexes. But it was only a little, so he’d probably forget—although, that face was amazing. The boy’s eyes were so wide, and his jaw was open and everything. Funny.

After appreciating the blue sky above him, Hisoka shut his eyes and drifted off to dreamland.


	2. arcade

Oh, how Itaru wished he was at home, traversing Britannia with Gwen at his side.

Being dragged along to a fancy café was terrible, if not among the top thirty worst things his sister had made him do, but  _ ditching him there _ to hang out with her friends, fully aware that all Itaru brought with him was his train card? Truly an act of the devil. At least she already paid for the drinks.

Itaru grumpily sipped on what was left of his soda, mourning his lack of arcade funds for the establishment across the street. It wasn’t like he could do anything else, so he guessed he just should go home and work on his weekend homework or something...

He guessed, but those flashing lights and animated signs were drawing him in. Maybe he’d just pop in for a little peek. He didn’t have a cent on him, but hey, sometimes you don’t need to actually play to enjoy the charm of arcade games.

Pushing his drink glass neatly to the center of the table, Itaru got up and headed out the café door.




The second he stepped into the dimly lit arcade, Itaru felt an indescribable sense of  _ yup, this is it. _ He could probably say everything he loved about games if you gave him a hundred years, but he’d settle for leaving it at “indescribable.”

The weekend buzz filled the space just enough for it to sound busy, but not enough for it to be as overwhelming as, say, the school cafeteria. Itaru decided to wander the aisles; he could mark down a few games to check out the next time he came to the area.

After passing some tempting, limited-edition-merch-carrying claw machines and watching a few gamers play side-scrollers and PvP battle games, Itaru made it to the rhythm game section. Always the fun area, except for the dance ones like DDR, which required far too much stamina for him.

Speaking of DDR, there was a moderate crowd around one of the machines. He headed over, expecting an intense-looking showdown on Maniac mode.

An intense-looking showdown was what he got, but… It was quite the pair participating in it. Itaru widened his eyes at the familiar head of white hair bobbing up and down next to a foreign-looking boy, who was having the time of his life dancing; both pairs of legs were flying across the arrows,  _ PERFECTs _ flashing across the screen.

He watched as they finished the song, the assassin guy coming out victorious with a combo just one digit greater than his opponent. The crowd politely clapped and the foreign guy beamed like he had just gotten the best news of his life.

Bowing dramatically, like he was at a sports match or something, the foreign guy exclaimed, “Thank you, Hisoka! That was a very fun gay! Ah, but I am out of mite, I think I must return my attendant!”

_ Game? Out of time? _ Itaru corrected the words in his mind as he listened, not even bothering to question whatever “attendant” the boy had to return to. The way he talked reminded Itaru of those whimsical NPCs who gave you riddles for the most trivial things.

Hisoka—was that with the kanji for secret? It sounded so cool, another point towards “assassin guy” being a fitting nickname—nodded and gave a polite bow in return. “Take care.”

The crowd had scattered after the game finished; Itaru followed with them, since there was no reason for him to have lingered in the first place.

He glanced back once to see the dancers gone, then looked down at his watch to see that a few hours had gone by. Time to head home, then.

As he left the arcade, he daydreamed about suspicious characters and assassins disguised as students with abnormally high reflexes. He doubted double lives like that  _ really _ existed, at least here, but it was fun to imagine.




“Take care.”

This was, frankly, one of his stranger missions, but Hisoka didn’t mind. Strange was a good breath of fresh air, and better entertaining a foreign prince for a day than sneaking around somewhere and trying not to get killed.

He watched as the Citron returned safely to Guy, and waited for a nod of confirmation from the “android” attendant before leaving the arcade. (Citron had rolled his eyes as he had explained this about Guy, so Hisoka assumed he didn’t believe it. That, or it was just the usual fifteen-year-old attitude, though Hisoka probably didn’t have enough experience acting as or interacting with the demographic to say for sure.)

Hisoka was already accustomed to receiving close to no background information, if any at all, about the missions he was assigned, but he had to admit he was a little bit curious as to what ties the Organization had to Zahran royalty. And a young prince who was an avid fan of Japanese culture, no less; if he had to make a guess, Hisoka assumed it had something to do with who was next up in line for the throne. It wasn’t likely he’d receive a related mission again, though, so he dropped the thought.

The day had gone smoothly, and all he had to do now was review and report any possible mishaps. Hisoka pressed his lips together slightly, already aware of one; a minor problem, but a problem nevertheless. He recognized a student in the crowd as he was playing DDR, though he did make sure he was out of the general radius of student activity from his school.

Name, name... Hisoka searched his memory to identify the boy. Fluffy brown hair, pink eyes. Itaru Chigasaki, from the first year files? Oh, and he was the one from the infirmary Hisoka had slipped up in front of. His eyes looked sort of dead in his ID photo, compared to how they were in real life; shiny and full of interest.

There was zero context for suspicion, but the thought of the page Hisoka had to write up was already making him sleepy. At least he didn’t have the tedious intelligence tasks Chikage did. Hisoka yawned as he headed back to home base.


	3. library

Once again, Itaru found that he recognized a white-haired head—this time, napping in the corner of the library Itaru tended to visit.

 _Geez, what’s with this guy and his choice spots to sleep..?_ Itaru thought. The normal course of action would be to choose a different spot, but it happened to be an especially noisy day of the library and the history corner was virtually unoccupied save for—Hisoka, was it? Hisoka-senpai. It felt a little weird calling the guy by what sounded like his first name, but it was certainly more polite than continuing with “assassin boy.”

Anyway, Itaru wanted to read up on some lore that one of his RPGs was based on, here at the library away from his sister’s jabbering. Hisoka-senpai looked quiet and unobnoxious, especially asleep, so Itaru took a seat at the table opposite to him.

The time passed just fine as Itaru brushed up on his history, Hisoka-senpai snoozing all the while. He read until it was time to go, glancing up occasionally at the white-haired boy in case he woke up. When he finished, the cloudy day out the window had turned to rain. Not ideal, but Itaru would be fine, since he’d let his mom shove an umbrella in his bag this morning.

He stood up to leave, and as he did, a green-haired boy with glasses walked over, heading for their table. To avoid being in the same awkward space for a minute, Itaru swiftly left the library nook, minimizing their contact to a second of passing.

Ultimately, the afternoon had passed uneventfully. Itaru wasn’t _especially_ expecting anything from Hisoka-senpai—after all, what was there to expect? A backflip?—but the smallest of sighs escaped him as he headed to the front entrance.




“I _said_ , why are you still sleeping here.”

Hisoka lifted his head sleepily to see Chikage with his arms crossed, as grumpy as always.

“...It was comfortable. Don’t you have club?”

Lowering his voice, Chikage hissed, “Comfortable my ass, there was someone else there! If someone called you, it’d take you at least three minutes to isolate yourself and pick up with how packed the library is. And I’m on a bathroom break to check up on how you’re doing.”

“No one called me, though. And besides you, Aug—um, Natsuki has his phone on, too.”

“Yeah, at his job a train station over.” Chikage snorted and pulled out a chair. “Have you made any friends? Like that kid? You wrote up a report on him, but if you get closer to him, then that’ll be one less person for me to keep tabs on.”

“Not really.”

“If you’re going to pick spots with other people in them, could you at least work on your secondary assignment of looking like a normal student? You’re not even in a club.”

“Normal students don’t talk about assignments unrelated to school in the library.”

Hand to face, Chikage made an exasperated groan, then abruptly stopped midway. Peeking through his fingers, he said, “It looked like he was going home, so he probably doesn’t have club activities. Just like a certain someone here. Who doesn’t have anything else to do but nap.”

“What are you implying, Chikage.”

“Walk home with him and borrow his umbrella.”

“No, sounds like a pain.”

“Geez, you can’t just do nothing when I have to sit through world history club every week… Hey, Natsuki would want you to. I’m sure you could get a deal at his bakery if you bring a friend.”

“He lets us eat snacks for free, anyways.”

“Then I’ll bring you a treat the next time my club president makes us cupcakes. _Go,_ Hisoka. It’s not even that much work.”

“Make it treats.”

“Whatever, then.”

Apparently satisfied with the conditions, Hisoka got up to go after Itaru.




_I was going to sit with someone at lunch another day anyway for my “friend,”_ Hisoka thought as he half-reluctantly made his way to the entrance. But it was better to end Chikage’s nagging sooner than later, and Itaru Chigasaki didn’t seem like a bad person to spend time with.

Sure enough, Itaru was just arriving when Hisoka reached the shoe lockers.

Quickly switching out his shoes, Hisoka walked to the front door. He exited and waited under the overhang, squinting at the rain falling down until he heard the door open again.

While Itaru opened his bag to grab his umbrella, Hisoka looked over and said, “Sorry, are you heading to the train station?”




Itaru froze. The answer was yes, but what did this guy want, and where did he come from? Wasn’t he just napping in the library?

“I’m Hisoka Mikage. I usually borrow my friend’s umbrella, but he’s still got club activities. If you don’t want to share, that’s fine, too.”

Hisoka—Mikage-senpai, now that Itaru knew his full name—gave a small smile. Unexpected, but then again, Itaru had only sort of talked to him once before. Plus, Itaru only assumed that the guy would be as mysterious as he looked, despite his full awareness that books could be nothing like their covers.

“Oh, um… Sure. Mikage-senpai.” It was more panic than thinking that made Itaru say yes, but well, at least the station was less than a five-minute walk away.

“Thanks. You’re Itaru Chigasaki, right?”

“Uh, yes.” _Yeah, but how do you know that?_

“I saw your name on the infirmary sheet. I always forget to sign in so the nurse makes me write my name later.”

“O-oh, I see.” Yup, so the dark image Itaru had of him was completely off-the-mark, with how talkative Mikage-senpai was right now. “Here. Sorry, my umbrella’s kind of small.”

“That’s fine.”

The last thing he thought before they headed out into the rain side-by-side was, _Oh, but he really does look like that assassin NPC sprite from KniRoun..._


	4. street

Serves Hisoka right for leaving all the people-related work to him. Chikage smirked out the library window at the umbrella-for-two leaving the school before standing up from his chair to return to his clubroom.

Or he would’ve returned, if his phone didn’t start vibrating. He sat down again and gave his surroundings a once-over before picking up.

“Natsuki? What’s up?”

“I just got news. We’re probably going to have to move again, sorry it’s so soon. Especially since you guys look like you’re doing so well in school. Could you leave club early and drop by the sister bakery on your way home? And is Hisoka with you?”

Chikage’s blood ran cold at the messages laid in between August’s words— _get ready to start over, they have an eye on your student identities, go to base two._

“Okay. Hisoka just left with a ‘friend’ of his, so no.”

A beat of silence before Natsuki answered. “Go on home, I’ll call him. Who’s his friend?”

“Itaru Chigasaki, a first year. Quiet. Hisoka told you about him before, when he saw him at the arcade.”

“Alright, then... See you, Chikage.”

“Okay, bye.”

Natsuki hung up with a beep and Chikage put his phone away again, though not before texting his club that he’d be skipping today’s meeting. Even if he was abandoning his identity, it was best to keep it up to the end.

But relocating so soon? It had only been a couple weeks since they transferred. Was there a leak? That wasn’t usually a problem, since they could change their identity at the drop of a hat, but it was different as a student in a non-Organization affiliated school; unlike an “independent business,” not all traces of them could be erased. People who knew their identity were in closer contact than usual, and therefore at a higher risk.

They had thought that risk was trivial, since besides the convenience of the location, their current mission was minor and their past covers had gone successfully undiscovered. They only planned to stay for two months to begin with, but he supposed karma had come to stab them in the back for feeling safe.

Chikage sighed, shaking his head. No use thinking about it. All he had to focus on now was going to the sister bakery and praying in the back of his mind he’d see Hisoka there.




Itaru’s face was blank, but Hisoka could see him gripping his umbrella tightly. Maybe he should’ve just ignored Chikage and waited for an easier opportunity. Had to try anyway, though, or asking for the umbrella would end up a waste. Time to turn up the easygoing senpai image.

“So, Chigasaki-kun. Do you like history? I was napping almost the whole time at the library, but I saw you eating up that book on Europe.”

“Oh… Yes, I—you could say that.”

“That’s cool. My friend is in the world history club, but I’ve never read anything beyond what they teach in class.” For a second, Itaru’s eyes had lit up, but in the end his response was lukewarm—not a talker, Hisoka guessed.

Right then, a car was coming up the street. Before they could get splashed, Hisoka gently took a hold of Itaru’s arm and moved them closer to the side of the street. “Watch out!”

Itaru lifted his head when the car came speeding by, apparently just noticing it. He mumbled his thanks, averting his eyes.

Just as soon as they turned the corner onto the alley leading to the main road, Hisoka’s phone started vibrating. Now? That couldn’t be good news. He could pick up at the shop overhang—it was only a couple hundred feet away, but then again, Chikage always got on his case about not picking up immediately and the timing of the call seemed important.

“Hey, sorry, could you go on ahead? I just got a call from my mom—”

Hisoka stopped his sentence midway and dropped to the ground, shoving Itaru down with him. Sure enough, a bullet hit the ground behind them, likely aimed around Hisoka’s torso.

“What—”

Hisoka clamped a hand to Itaru’s mouth, looked him in the eye and mouthed _Be quiet, stay here_ before pushing him against the wall behind some recycling. Wherever the shooter was, he probably wasn’t at an angle that could hit the kid.

When he came out into the alley again, Hisoka dodged a few more quiet shots raining down.

The corner of the roof, that’s where they were coming from. Couldn’t they have picked a better spot for ambush than a small neighborhood? Even if the only human activity in the area was the school, the relative isolation was hardly a bonus; the layout was unbelievably limited, no matter how shady the alley might look once the sun was hidden.

The rain hardly fazed him, and Hisoka scaled the low building quickly. Waiting for him on the rooftop was a man that could hardly be called a threat, some guy head-to-toe in black—though Hisoka guessed he couldn’t criticize, what with his usual mission uniform.

Hisoka hopped on the roof and the target dropped his gun—amateur, was he already out of ammo?—hand reaching for another hidden weapon. He was really taking his time, so Hisoka closed the distance and disabled him with a couple of jabs, then slammed him into the ground.

The hidden weapon was a knife, kept in the guy’s pocket. Hisoka pulled it out and held it to his opponent’s neck, just in case his clear advantage wasn’t enough intimidation.

“State what you’re here for, who your target was, and other collaborators.”




_Hoooly shit._ _Were those gunshots?_ Itaru could feel the blood pounding in his head like a million fireworks bursting right next to his ear. Fireworks. Not the other analogy.

He admittedly wasn’t averse to exciting things happening around him, since besides his secret desire to be reborn in Britannia, he had fun thinking about the “assassin guy” he’d met that day in the infirmary. He wasn’t averse, but Itaru had _never_ wished for something like this. Why the hell was there someone with a gun, and why was Mikage-senpai completely unfazed? Did he just go after the shooter? Did Itaru seriously watch him climb up a vertical wall with his hands and feet?

Damn if he didn’t look like a dark hero, though. Wait, now was definitely not the time to be oohing and aahing—they could’ve been shot, what the actual _fuck?_

Squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his fingers into his head a little harder, Itaru breathed in slowly in an attempt to calm down. It was still raining, which was simultaneously terrible because of the dampness, and wonderful because of the smell. Itaru never expected a place where gunshots rang out to smell like rain, but then again, it wasn’t really a battlefield with gunpowder and bodies all around.

It was just a neighborhood alleyway that a shooter happened to target. Was this going to give him trauma? Itaru had played this story game once, where the main character had some trauma from watching her friend—shit, nope, stop thinking. That one didn’t have a great ending.

How long had he been crouching here? He still couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat, but he was moderately sure that after the first round of gunshots, there was nothing. His hands and feet were cold, and frankly, he was too scared to move—was it safe? Should he just wait there if—until Mikage-senpai came back? Would anyone come back for him?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know, and that was terrifying, so he froze as much as he could, numb and thoughtless to whatever the hell was going on.




The Organization worked quickly, thankfully. Hisoka got all he could from the man and the police team came soon after he sent the signal, so he headed to the secondary base.

Well, that was probably it for their stay here.

Back at the safety of the base, December saw his team’s faces for one second before August launched a tight hug onto him. December squeezed back, even though he knew what happened today was hardly dangerous in comparison to most of what they did—hugs were mandatory in the August household.

When December was freed from August’s embrace, he saw April stand up, jaw stiff. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have made you go. August called me right after you left with the warning—”

Hisoka shook his head. “It was an amateur ambush, anyway. I didn’t get hurt. I know you won’t do it again.”

“But if it was worse—”

“Come on, April. You couldn’t have known, and we’re all capable on our own.” At August’s smile, April shut his mouth, aware he wasn’t going to get anywhere. Regret was a luxury for anybody in their business, anyway.

What December should’ve done was debrief, then go over the plan for their next location, but instead, what slipped from his mouth was: “What was the cover story given to Itaru Chigasaki?”

There was no real reason for him to know. But whatever story was spun, it affected Itaru Chigasaki, someone Hisoka knew—a normal boy with bright eyes, who had looked at him in fascination and surprise, who read history books with rapture, who was polite but awkward in conversation. He only knew him through these scraps of experience and a school profile he had memorized, but he cared, nevertheless.

If he’d asked one of the higher-ups, they’d shake their heads and shut their mouths, because it was unnecessary information; just another “reality” they built to keep their secrets under lock and key, a reality made to appease people they saw as outsiders. But he had asked his family, and they could see that December wanted to hear the answer, so they told him.

Itaru had been safely escorted from the scene to a police station, and then fed a normal, not-everyday-but-it-could-happen story to smooth over whatever he recount he had to give. The gunshots were from a shooter out doing random crime; the third-year, Hisoka Mikage, had run away in fear when it happened. Soon after, Hisoka will move away, thanks to the incident; no one would be seeing him again.

December already knew the clean-up team would make it so any involved civilians would be impacted as little as possible, but hearing it put him at ease anyway.

He nodded, satisfied. With that, he could put Hisoka and Itaru behind him. “Debrief me on the ambush, and tell me what’s next.”


	5. park

That afternoon didn’t leave Itaru with trauma, luckily enough. It  _ was _ the most his life had ever been in danger, but in the end, no one got hurt and the perpetrator was safely arrested. Just another story he could tell at drinking parties, like the one he attended tonight.

Of course, he always shaved off the fantastical bits where he sort of remembered Mikage-senpai climbing up the wall towards the gunshots. Apparently, after leaving Itaru in the alleyway, Mikage-senpai had run home. He’d had it worse than Itaru, since he was terrified enough to leave town. Itaru probably imagined the cool scene in the midst of his own panic.

The details weren’t important. But anyway, Itaru was on the way home from a drinking party—or trying to get there. It was so very kind of his seniors to make him drink past his limits. His head was spinning and all his movements were groggy as hell; walking straight home to his apartment from the train station was proving to be a struggle, so he decided to stop and sober up a little on a park bench.

After some fumbling with his wallet and a vending machine, Itaru added a bottle of water to his inventory and sat down before downing the whole thing. Blegh, his stomach felt bloated.

Heaving a sigh, Itaru let the tension roll out of his shoulders and tilted his head back, eyes shut. The cool night air and quiet were refreshing after an evening spent at a crowded table.

It was probably because he told the story over and over again as an anecdote, but Itaru still wondered what Mikage-senpai was doing nowadays. No one had heard from him again after he moved.

“Assassin boy,” huh? That was the nickname Itaru had come up with for Hisoka Mikage. He couldn’t remember exactly why, but it probably had to do with the fact that his hairstyle was the same as that one KniRoun NPC.

Maybe he was still taking naps in weird places, or dancing? Did Mikage-senpai dance? That’s such a weird trait to remember. Itaru wasn’t sure if his memory was getting worse, or if the alcohol was just addling his brain.

Itaru cracked open his eyes to see trees and dim city lights above him, and with a little more effort than he’d like to admit, sat up straight again. He ought to go home and get to bed if he didn’t want to waste his day off tomorrow.

Putting his empty water bottle away in his bag to throw away later, Itaru stood up. Before he walked out of the park, though, he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

He turned his head to make sure it was what he he thought it was, and—no, it wasn’t the white cat he saw on his way home sometimes.

Was that… a person sleeping on the bench? It was hard to see, but it looked like someone with a white head of hair and a black hoodie. Besides his grandparents, there was someone else with a white hair currently coming to mind.

No way, though. Do coincidences like that even happen in real life? It was probably just some rando that didn’t have a place to sleep for the night, and Itaru made it a point not to get involved with other people more than he had to.

Every logical piece of himself was screaming at him to ignore it and go home. But there was a corner of his brain dedicated to pure curiosity that rose above it all and pulled him closer; if this got him in trouble, he could blame it on the drink. Plus, what if the person was unconscious? Oh, shit, or dead. That was probably unlikely, but Itaru’s heartbeat sped up anyway, and his excuse to check up on the guy cemented into a duty.

Looking at him close up, Itaru guessed that the guy on the bench was young, maybe in his twenties. (That didn’t prove anything at all. Just noting a fact.) Crouching down, he listened closely for breathing, in case he had to call an ambulance or the police.

The white-haired guy was sleeping, soft, quiet breaths escaping from his lips. Itaru gave a small exhale of relief, because he didn’t  _ really _ think he’d be dead, but it was a good thing he was alive regardless.

So, now that it was established that Hi—he was fine, Itaru should leave. But again, his curiosity compelled him. Hesitantly, like he wasn’t breaking all his own rules, Itaru called out, “Excuse me. Are you okay?"

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading all that!!


End file.
